I enjoy a vast majority of Bravo reality shows, and when a new one starts, I usually give it a try. Despite the rather annoying promos, a few weeks ago I sat down and watched the first episode of Miss Advised, which follows three women – a matchmaker in New York City, a sex expert with a radio show in San Francisco, and a dating columnist in Los Angeles – as they attempt to find love in their respective cities.
I’m not going to sugarcoat anything; I found the show to be totally contrived, and the three stars rather awful. However, I have continued to hate watch the show, not bothering to change the channel after The Real Housewives of New York City because I want to see how irritating the so-called relationship experts are each week. I know, I know; in the immortal words of Bethenny Frankel, I need a hobby.
Emily Morse is the least offensive of the bunch. You don’t get to hear much of what she says on her radio show, but we have seen her go on a few dates (including one where she ended up at a strip club). I agree with her that you need to trust your gut when it comes to turning down a date (or anything, really), but that’s about it. She is not terrible, but I think she could be an axe murderer and would still look good compared to the other two.
Amy Laurent, the NYC matchmaker, has an air of “I’m too good for all of you” mixed with a severe case of insecurity. That’s not going to charm anyone, let alone viewers. At first, I thought she was at least tolerable, despite the fact that she went out with an ex-boyfriend who had moved to Saudi Arabia without telling her. That was weird-slash-stupid. But later, on another date with a younger man (she’s 34, but acts as though she was there when the Wright Brothers were tweaking the airplane), she went on and on about how young he was and the age difference and then – gasp! – he suggested they split a chicken pot pie. I know, I know; let it soak in. Amy acted as if this was the worst possible suggestion in the world, and then went on and on about how she had to run extra miles because she drank some hot chocolate. At that moment, she showed the world that not only is she unlucky in love, but she also has a bad attitude and issues with food. Yikes.
The biggest dud is Julia Allison, the infamous-on-the-Internet “journalist” (as a real journalist, I take offense that she tries to pass herself off as one) who wants everyone under the sun to know that she dated Jack McCain for a hot minute. She begs dates for kisses, cries when an editor at Elle asks her to come up with some pitches (or, in other words, actually do some work), and becomes unhinged at the drop of a hat. Usually, when I see someone who is this desperate for attention, I feel bad and then move on, grateful that the person is not my friend. But with her, I can’t give her that empathy. She’s just so annoying, in that cloying, aren’t I adorable? way. I mean, she wears tutus. I repeat: she is a grown woman who wears tutus.
To sum the show up in one word: yuck. I hate seeing women portrayed as the stereotypical desperate female on television, and I hate the fact that these women are so unlikable. I’m not alone; most of the reviews I’ve read are not favorable. If this show gets renewed for another season, it means that Andy Cohen is so wrapped up in staring at himself in the mirror and reflecting on the latest Watch What Happens Live that he has lost track of what his channel is airing.
Have you seen the show? What do you think about it?
